Oh! The Places We Could Go
by RBGzMom
Summary: Scandal canon correction, head-canon and possible AU. I don't own anything. It all belongs to Shonda. Always Olitz, Jellie will always suffer, my favorites will be saved or restored and others will be ignored. The shady will be punished at varied degrees. Enter at your own risk. Re-construction complete!
1. Chapter 1

**Dead Marriage** {One Shot}

 **Canon compliant until Fitz and Mellie's argument**

Olivia and Cyrus observe the tense, awkward couple sitting so far apart on the couch they are practically on opposite sides of the room. "Unless you are prepared to become a real, loving, touching couple you need to stop wasting everyone's time," Olivia instructs.

Fitz watches rubbing his index finger across his bottom lip. _My god she is a vision-a unique force to be reckoned with._ "What if we admit the truth?" he speaks for the first time. "The marriage is dead and we are freeing each other to pursue true happiness and our life's purpose. What would the campaign chances be then?" he asks.

"I do not care what your chances would be. I did not give up 15 years of my life, my legal career; have your children to be left by the side of the road while you sprint across the finish line. I will not be made a fool of," Mellie spews. "How dare you suggest such a thing," she crosses her arms defiantly.

Fitz turns to Mellie, "Consider the optics. Amicable divorce and you can launch your political career from a presidential campaign," he encourages.

Olivia pops up from her seat, pacing and fluttering her fingers against her full lips. "It could work. You both look magnanimous, supportive. The Governor would get a boost with career women. Mellie would corner the market with all women, Democratic and Republican, as well as progressive men," she turns to them smiling.

Pride fills Fitz chest. _I made her smile and matched her brilliant intellect._

Mellie scowls, venom churning up her throat as she leaps from the couch. She stands with her fist clenched at her sides. "This does not work for me. I would have to start with Congress or the Senate. No, I earned the Oval. I will accept nothing less than the Oval Office and I need to be First Lady to get what I deserve."

Olivia looks to Cyrus in shock. He shakes his head in disbelief. She looks to Fitz. _He has lived this hell for how long?_ "Mellie, just consider the optics the Governor described plus the added bonus of a sitting president campaigning on your behalf," she pushes.

"Look, your idealism is sweet but I have neither the time nor patience to continue a pointless discussion. Find some events to showcase the marriage and I will do my part," she smoothes her skirt and returns to the couch.

"Here is the problem. Events aren't going to fix this," Olivia gestures between them.

Fitz stands abruptly, "Fine, let's play hardball." He turns to Cyrus and Olivia, "Schedule a press conference. I am suspending the campaign."

He turns to Mellie, "We can return to Santa Barbara and fight out a messy divorce. I am a two term governor with options. After the dust settles I can run for the Senate and launch a successful presidential bid from there. You have no political capital so you lose either way. Do you want the chance I am offering or not?" he is determined.

"You wouldn't dare," she screeches.

"Try me," he snaps.

Mellie glances around the room. Cyrus' eyes widen glancing between the two combatants. Olivia's mouth parts slightly as she gazes at the Governor in wonder and adoration.

Mellie is out of options. Fitz finally called her bluff. "You win. Make time to hammer out the details. I want everything in writing including the appearance of joint custody," she storms out of the room.

"I need to stalk her…make sure she doesn't implode," Cyrus explains as he beats a hasty retreat from the room.

"I am so sorry. I can try…" Olivia tries to offer solace.

"Don't…this is my first day with a chance," he explains with a smile.

"You are remarkably courageous. It looks good on you," she flirts without looking at him directly.

He moves to her in one giant stride. He places a finger under her chin and raises her face to his, "How about we be bold and brave together. Win the White House…maybe have some babies." _Might as well go for the win._

"That could work too," she smiles brightly.

 **The End**


	2. Chapter 2

**The Man I Voted For** {One Shot}

 **Canon compliant until the interview**

Fitz holds Olivia by the arm possessively, "Who are you right now?" he is shocked beyond belief. His eyes take her in- he can read her like a book. This is not his Livvie. This is Olivia and she is scared and running.

"Go be the man I voted for," she pushes him away and exits the room.

Olivia's direction plays on a loop inside his head. Livvie voted for a man who is bold and brave. A man that shows the world who he really is and not who is suppose to be. He smiles and his eyes dance with delight. _I know exactly what to do._

* * *

Olivia stops him with last minute instructions and a folder. "I know how to fake it with my wife. You taught me well. Please wait here until the interview is complete," he commands.

"I don't think that is a good idea. In fact, I know it is a bad idea," she counters.

"You serve at the pleasure of the President of the United States of America. You will wait," his tone leaves her speechless as he walks into the room taking the open seat.

The audio recording plays, _**"Take off your clothes…**_

From the corner of his eye Fitz watches her shift uncomfortably, her eyes searching for a way to escape. He hears Mellie's performance begin. "This is such a private moment and I am outraged that the left-wing media would broadcast it with such callous disregard," she laments.

"Yes," he interrupts, "the truth is that is me on the audio with the woman I love but that woman in not my wife." Fitz watches with detached amusement as Mellie's mouth falls open, her eyes shoot venom and Olivia nearly faints. She is bracing herself against the doorframe; the rest of the bystanders gasp and gawk.

"Excuse me," the journalist interjects loudly in shock.

"I could lie to the American people but they deserve my best even if it is flawed. Mellie and I have been partners for a long time but we both deserve happiness. I will no longer hold us hostage in an arrangement that is well past its expiration date. Before you ask-the woman in question has a right to her privacy and if and when she wants me I will be here waiting," Fitz explains leaving Mellie trapped by the truth.

"President Grant, this could cost you the presidency now and in the future?" the journalist recovers quickly.

"You are correct, but I will no longer sacrifice what is left of my integrity. I pledged to the American people during my State of the Union Address that my presidency would be different. I am keeping that pledge regardless of the circumstances or possible outcome. If the people decide I have failed to pursue my campaign promises they can vote accordingly. But my private life; who I love does not belong to the American people," he delivers with authentic sincerity.

"Mrs. Grant, I have to ask how long have you known about the relationship your husband has with another woman." The journalist turns to her.

"I am just as shocked as you," she chokes out emotionally still in performance mode.

"How can you be shocked? You knew in advance what the topic of this interview was-wait…were you going to lie to the American people?" the journalist leans forward her instincts kicking in.

Mellie's mouth opens and closes repeatedly. She is dazed and confused and the silence is deafening.

"Mrs. Grant, I will ask you again. Were you going to lie to the American people?" she presses for a response.

Mellie looks to Fitz and he leans back in his chair. _Checkmate!_

"Of course not," she recovers quickly. "This is such a difficult time personally," she stammers.

Pushing his advantage, "Mellie is sitting by my side because we will remain partners for our children while we dissolve our marriage amicably." He turns to the cameras and leans forward, "I want to thank the American people for their time, patience, prayers and understanding." Fitz turns back to the journalist, "Thank you for coming to the White House as well," he nudges to end the interview.

"Oh, um…thank you President Grant and the First Lady."

The cameras stop recording, microphones are removed and everyone is in a state of shock. Fitz returns to the Oval Office and waits for the usual suspects.

* * *

Cyrus storms in bellowing and slamming the door behind him, "Have you lost your mind? Clearly you have because you just sacrificed the presidency for what? We are not normal. I do not want normal. I do not want a baby. This presidency-you are my baby." His face is red and flushed. His hair stands on end and his arms flail wildly.

Fitz watches and waits, he leans back in his chair and folds his hands in his lap gently. "This is not about you and what you want. You do not have to be normal. You want to be president-run for office. I am not your surrogate. You want power-real power…get up and make something happen. You serve at the pleasure of the president-not the other way around. You don't agree with my choices…I will accept your resignation. Now if you will excuse me," he delivers firm and calm.

Cyrus stares in disbelief. When did he lose control? Fitz was like his watch. He knew all the gears and dials. How to keep is running but suddenly nothing worked. He drops down on the couch.

The door slams back against the wall, "How dare you? Do you have any idea what I have sacrificed? The parts of my soul I sold for you and your presidency," Mellie shrieks bitterly.

Fitz rounds the desk in two quick strides, "Let's be clear-you have no soul. The choices you made were a by-product of your relentless, raw ambition-nothing more and nothing less. You are now free to use all your energy, cunning and often declared intelligence to benefit you and you alone. You, no longer bare the yoke of Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III," he responds with barely restrained rage.

Mellie blinks as the truth emerges as a conscious thought. She can no longer hide or blame. She will have to produce and navigate this world on her own terms. She will be judged by her actions without the benefit of his wealth and privilege; without the deference to her status as First Lady.

Fitz leans back against the desk and folds his arms with his hands grasping his elbows. "Your things are at Blair House. Please join them-now," he directs. Mellie does not appear to comprehend. "Tom, he requests, please have the former First Lady's agents take her to Blair House," he calls through the open door.

"Right away Sir," he responds entering the room. The agents follow and escort Mellie away and out of the White House.

"Cyrus, close the door on your way out," Fitz directs with his finger.

Fitz takes a deep breath and exhales before exiting the Oval to the left. He joins Olivia in the hallway sitting next to her with his back against the same wall his long legs extended and crossed at the ankle. She is crouched down with her hands resting on her knees. She stares at the wall in front of her. "I know you are scared. I know you are searching that brilliant brain for an escape route. I know this is beyond your control and that terrifies you. So this time, I will wait for you because I love you and nothing else matters," he explains with all the tenderness in his heart.

He kisses her temple and allows his lips to linger while he breathes her in. He has no idea how long it will take or if she will ever get there but it is of little consequence because this chance for them is real and tangible. He made it happen. He showed her and the world all that he is and the Republic still stands.

* * *

Olivia made it home but she is reeling. The thing she convinced herself he would never do-he did. The truth she believed he would never say that justified all her choices-he said. She did not have control. Reality was unfolding all around her and she was powerless to intervene or bend it to her will. _"What do you want for yourself?"_ Verna asked her on the campaign plane back on the trail.

Olivia made a pact with those demons without considering what she wanted for herself. _Why? Because you don't believe you deserve that kind of love. Fitz would have realized you were unworthy eventually and you would be all alone again._

Olivia's lips begin to smile. He did see her and he did it anyway. Her love was enough. Now she just needed some courage. She dials and waits, "Hi…I want to stand in the truth with you. I don't know if you will love me after but…can you come-tonight?" her breath is shaky.

* * *

She paces waiting. He knocks and Olivia freezes staring at the door. Everything blurs: her walk to the door, his entrance. "We-they rigged the election," she blurts dramatically never turning to face him.

Fitz falls to the couch, "What?" he utters in disbelief. She explains it all it seems in one breath staring at the floor too ashamed to face him, waiting for him to leave and take his love away.

"Why? I had to beg you to be part of the administration and yet you still resigned. So why agree to treason?" Fitz is barely controlling his rage; trying to reconcile the woman he thought he knew with the new reality.

"Big Jerry said those horrible, vile, awful things and died without seeing you were right and…"she doesn't get to finish.

"On the plane," he's putting the pieces together, "You were coming to tell me on the day he died?" he asks with trepidation. If he is wrong he does not know how to move them forward.

"Yes," Olivia whispers.

Fitz exhales with deep relief, "We can fix this," is your team available-he checks his watch.

"How…what?" she looks at him for the first time since he arrived.

"Do you love me?" he asks with the smile that belongs only to his Livvie.

"Of course, but what I did-the betrayal," she stammers.

"I betrayed you with Amanda. I was broken and drunk, but you never deserved that," he allows the truth to emerge on its own.

"Love allows forgiveness," she states with her eyes open to him for the first time. Olivia picks up her phone, "Stephen, we have a new client. Have everyone ready…all cylinders. Use the back entrance…Tell Huck-maximum security."

Fitz stands and extends his arm and opens his hand, "Ready?"

Olivia grabs hold, "Consider it handled."

 **The End**


	3. Chapter 3

**Late Night Calls**

 **Canon compliant until after the State Dinner**

Escorted by Cyrus' goons, Olivia reaches her waiting town car. Once securely inside and on her way off the White House grounds she dials and waits, "Fitz," she greets tentatively when she is met with silence.

"Olivia I do not have time for more of your games," Fitz responds tersely.

"Cyrus sent me away…well, had me escorted away," she rushes out with a dry chuckle.

"He told me you weren't coming…you were playing me," he exhales with deep exasperation.

"Should we be surprised? I am a threat to his power," she states the obvious.

They are quiet and content alone together in this moment. One minute where all that they are or could be exists.

"Tell me how to fix this? How to put us back together again-I don't work without you," he pleads.

"I…we…you asked me to handle the Amanda Tanner situation. I can do that-for now," is her struggled response.

"Okay…Camp David…no cameras and no Cyrus. I will leave tonight and avoid the press pool," he offers in full business mode. _She is not ready-do not push._

"Fine, thirty minutes maximum," she negotiates, "I'll wait outside the room," she confirms.

"I would prefer if you were in the room. I want to do this right," he explains.

"I do not work for you. My client will decide who is in the room," her voice is angry and upset, "I have to go." Olivia disconnects the call.

* * *

Amanda Tanner sits in the passenger seat panicked and guilt ridden. This plan has spun out of control. Why did she believe she could do this? Love does not ask you to sacrifice all that you are to destroy lives to control the Republic. How did she lose her way? _I need to save what is left of me._

The SUV clears security and parks in front of a large cabin. Olivia exits and waits for her. Amanda opens the door and the whole experience becomes surreal. She follows Olivia along the paved path and through the door. She is faintly aware of the agents, the furnishings; the morning sun cast the room with a gentle, calm glow before she's standing alone in a room with the President of the United States. Except when she looks at him he is not the Leader of the Free World. He is a contrite man in a sweater and jeans asking her to have a seat. He is ashamed and barely making eye-contact; asking her if she would like coffee or juice.

"I need Ms. Pope to stay," she blurts blinking rapidly.

"Amanda, me staying is not a good idea… You wanted a moment alone," Olivia nudges and chides.

"I'm your client…you have to do what I want. I need you in the room," she counters.

"Fine," Olivia defiantly takes a seat.

"Amanda, I am sorry. I took advantage of you and our situation. I am better than that or at least I use to be. I could blame the alcohol, but I will not make excuses. How can I make this right for you?" Fitz is guilty, sincere and humble.

Amanda breaks and cries in earnest, "I'm pregnant," she states in a voice that is not her own. She watches Olivia clutch her stomach and Fitz shoot out of his chair and turn his back to the room.

"That is not my baby…I am not the father of that child…It is not possible for me to be the father of that child," he explains more to himself than the people in the room.

"I know you are not the father-Billy Chambers is," she whispers through her tears.

Fitz spins and faces her with hot rage burning in his eyes, "Repeat what you just said," he directs.

Olivia is out of her chair pacing on the other side of the room.

"I'm sorry," she offers weakly, "He had this plan…Sally deserved the Oval…and the recording," Amanda rambles between sobs.

Olivia stops mid-step and turns, "What recording?" her tone is edgy.

Amanda confesses and with each disclosure the tears subside and she feels like she is actually breathing air for the first time in months. The room is still and uncertain. She glances between the two other occupants and realizes they are having a silent conversation. There is another truth happening but she doesn't know what it is. This is no longer about her. _It was never about me. I was a complete and willing fool._

They suddenly seem to remember they are not alone. Olivia speaks first, "Amanda what do you want? What are you hoping to accomplish at this point?" her tone is detached.

"I want to go home and start over," her response is simple.

"Home to DC…your parents…some place new?" Olivia tries to clarify.

"My parents…I need to remember who I use to be so I can do right by my baby," she replies.

"And Billy…what do you expect or want from him?" Olivia continues the discussion.

"After today I can confidently say that door is closed," she chuckles humorlessly.

"Do you want it closed?" Olivia questions.

Amanda is quiet, "Yes…but I do want TJ," she laughs to herself.

"Who the hell is TJ," Fitz snaps.

"Her dog…Billy gave her a dog," Olivia provides, "How soon do you want to leave?"

"Immediately-while I still have the courage," she admits. "Mr. President I owe you an apology. I have no real excuse. I just hope that one day you can forgive me for what I did to you and what I almost did to our country," she offers with sincerity.

Fitz can only nod his head. His anger and rage is barely contained. He exits the room at a crisp, determined pace, "Tom," he calls once he crosses the threshold.

"Yes Sir," Tom responds quickly.

"Send two agents you trust to pick up Billy Chambers and secure him at the Pentagon. We will meet them there. This is a closed operation-just you and me. Are we clear?" he commands.

"Yes Sir…right away," he exits while retrieving his phone.

Olivia enters the room and Amanda follows, "Mr. President thank you for your time," she extends her hand. He returns the gesture but does not speak. She studies his face before she departs. _Billy Chambers is fucked!_


	4. Chapter 4

**The Truth about Jake**

 **AN: I thought I would share a couple of ways Jake should have been written out of the storyline quickly. I will not waste time on why he remains a part of Shondaland. IMO he is in love with being Rowan's son and every action he takes is an effort to secure that role. Further, he has a twisted obsession with Fitz which probably requires a psychiatrist and some meds.**

 _ **Exit stage left…**_

"Who's the guy?" Fitz asks standing in the Oval after the Caldwell fundraiser.

"There is no guy, Sir," Jake lies in response. _I am not giving up my advantage._

Fitz shakes his head and chuckles, "You still don't get it. I thought you learned your lesson when we served in the same unit. Let me explain what could happen, if you get lucky. You can be an escape. When work and swimming laps are no longer enough she may indulge your desperate attempts; but it will not last because you are not me. Try as you might you have never been nor could you ever be me."

"Maybe that is a good thing," he retorts smugly.

"I would think long and hard about what choices you make moving forward. As your Commander-in-Chief I will not hesitate to use my full arsenal of weapons to maintain her safety," Fitz icy voice threatens.

"Isn't that my job now," Jake snaps.

"Not any longer. You are relieved from duty. You may return to the Pentagon for now and await new orders," he directs.

"Wow…abusing your authority…are you afraid of a fair fight," Jakes challenges.

"You are simple. This isn't a fight because I am the President of the United States. You serve at my pleasure. I determine your very existence. Where you live, what you do and who you do it with. That no longer includes Olivia Pope. You are dismissed," Fitz concludes. _What the hell was I thinking bringing this bastard into our lives?_

Jake stares in disbelief. Every time he thinks he beat Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III he comes up short. Is Olivia Pope worth his career? He turns to exit.

"Captain, you failed to salute your Commander-in-Chief. Do I need to take disciplinary action for insubordination?"

Jake stops and faces the President, "No Sir," he salutes crisply.

Fitz does not return the salute, "As I said-you are dismissed."

* * *

 _ **Exit stage right…**_

Olivia watches Jake retreat; his eyes willing her to lie to protect him-to keep his actions a secret. Her gut may not be fully functional but Jake's physical assault only allows one response. She grips Fitz's arm and pulls him close until her mouth is at his ear, "Jake hurt me…he gave me this concussion...he has cameras in my apartment."

Fitz pulls back sharply and studies her face. She is scared and vulnerable. "Captain Ballard, a moment please," he commands turning to face the door.

Jake enters the room. His eyes search to connect with Olivia but she is buried behind Fitz who remains seated on the bed. "Yes Sir."

"Explain to me again what transpired tonight? More importantly, why do you think Olivia was attacked? Why were you unable to prevent the assailant from getting close enough to do her harm?" he questions pointedly.

Jake stammers through an explanation attempting to deflect from the questions directed at him. "I am sure Ms. Pope will confirm my version of events," he finishes.

Fitz slowly nods his head up and down. _My God he is an idiot if he thinks I would believe that load of crap._ "Captain, your explanation defies logic. Ms. Pope does not corroborate your story. You are deliberately lying to your Commander-in-Chief. Therefore, I am relieving you of duty," he orders.

"Sir, I assure you…" he is cut off.

"You cannot assure me of a damn thing," he shouts. "Tom," Fitz call through the door. "Please have two of your trusted agents secure Captain Ballard at the Pentagon. He may face a possible court martial depending on the evidence-beginning with Ms. Pope's medical records of her attack this evening," he directs.

Jake panics, "Olivia, please…" he begs.

Fitz stands abruptly and moves to him in one giant stride. "You do not speak to her or beg her to save your pathetic life," he grits out. Before he can take matters into his own hands agents enter the room and lead Jake away. He returns to her side.

"You left me all alone…that is how Jake got to me," Olivia utters through tears.

"I know and I am sorry. Please let me fix this," he pleads.

"No, I do not forgive you," she leaps out of bed.

"You don't have to forgive me. You can be angry. I am angry with your about Defiance, but I love you. I only have one question-do you love me?"

"Does it matter," she responds without looking at him.

"Of course," he is exasperated.

"Yes, I love you," she replies but refuses to make eye contact.

"I have learned one thing this year. You are everything and I am nothing without you. I demand another chance. Our love deserves another chance," he argues forcefully.

Olivia throws her body into his arms. Their embrace and kisses are desperate, frantic and feverish. Fitz hold her close and whispers in her ear, "I will make this right…I will make us whole. Meet me half way," he offers desperately.

She pulls away from him, "How?" she asks tentatively.

"I know my words are no longer good enough. Respond to my actions. Watch what I do and then make a decision."

"I will think about it," her voice is shaky and she still will not sustain direct eye contact.

"Good…it is probably more than I deserve. Tom will make sure you get home safely," he takes her face in his hands and kisses her softly.

Olivia exhales as their mouths part, "I missed you."

"I know…we will be together soon. Never forget-I belong to you," he reminds her of their time in the Rose Garden.

She cannot respond in kind. His Livvie is too hurt and raw but she can believe if only for one minute.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chinese Wall**

 **Canon compliant until bedroom scene**

Olivia's mind races-pregnant…four weeks pregnant. An image of her trapped back in that filthy, dark hallway now with a crying bundle in her arms captures her soul. She is running for their lives and the Red Door is so far away. Her terror is stopped short. "Can I ask what you are thinking about?"

"No," she replies sharply but turns to kiss him. They both deliver sweet short pecks to each other. _He always feels so good…so right…so safe._ Fitz drags the back of his index finger down the bridge of her nose. His eyes are filled with love and so much hope. Hope for a future alive and thriving in her womb; a secret safe from harm. "I'm fine here," she stays close to keep the images and fear away. He embraces her back and head a little tighter. He knows she needs a little more from him tonight.

Maybe it is sheer exhaustion…maybe she decides to try because she has run out of options. No, the truth is simple-the purest form of their love exists. Their stolen moments too numerous to count had never produced this outcome before. There had to be a reason…a purpose…a point. "I am scared. Wait…that is a lie-I am terrified," she takes his hand from her head and places it against her heart.

His heart jumps. _She feels like she may have a heart attack._ He instinctively waits. She is always the doe in the woods. One small sound or wrong move and she will skitter away to safety.

"I am pregnant…we are four weeks pregnant. I want Fitz and Olivia's baby more than I want life itself but I cannot have it," her voice cracks. "I would have 'America's Bastard'…I would be the 'President's Baby Mama'. I can't…I won't. So I get to choose-right? Except it is not really a choice. What mother does that? Who willingly give their child that legacy?" her tears fall against his bare chest.

Olivia listens to his heart shattering within his chest. The sound feels as though it is echoing off the walls. He gathers a voice that sounds nothing like him. _I have to find a way through this briar patch. All that we are or will ever be is on the line. She will not recover…she will never risk real love like this again._ "For one minute be-Olivia Pope…cold, calculated, brilliant-the best in the game he directs. "Liv and Fitz cannot walk away from their public roles-yet…but they need their private life protected in order to save their child. How does Olivia Pope make that happen? How does she get their win?" he challenges.

Time passes excruciatingly slow but he feels the moment her heart rate returns to normal. A few minutes later she crawls over him standing next to the bed linking their fingers together. He watches in rapt fascination until it happens. A spark of a solution…fragile but with time and care it will be a flame. _Hang on Baby G…Mommy and Daddy are handling this._

"A Chinese Wall," she whispers. "We need a significant event to reset the narrative. Our public roles on one side…our personal lives on the other," her voice gains strength. "It cannot come from the pomp and circumstance of the presidency," she releases his hand and paces the bedroom in her simple, short chemise nightie.

He swings his legs out of bed; placing his bare feet on the floor. "Marry me, Livvie," he proposes in light blue boxers with a big, adorable smile.

She stops walking and spins to look at him, "Did you not hear anything I just said," she shouts.

He chuckles, "Every word…very astute. Now let me finish-you and me tonight in our spot with the Chief Justice and a couple of clerks. You have worn my ring for years; just like I wear your pin. We can make it official and real and only about us and our truth," he explains and implores simultaneously. He has never been so sure of their rightness than in this moment.

Her heart stop-this is it…their 'whatever we want' moment from the Truman Balcony is now. She nods because her tears are a torrential downpour on her face and words won't come.

* * *

Two hours later they stand facing each other at their spot in the Rose Garden. Olivia smiles down at her Inauguration dress before looking up at her devastatingly handsome groom in the blue suit he wore the first time he took the solemn oath to uphold the Constitution of the United States years ago. Only this time he is making sacred vows to her and their love. His flag pin catches the moonlight. His thumb caresses Doux Bebe. "Let us proceed," the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court reminds the smitten couple of his presence. "We gather this evening to join to people in love. As I understand my directions you have your own vows…please begin," he directs.

"I, Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III, exist for you," he begins with clarity.

"I, Olivia Carolyn Pope, belong to you. I vow devastating love" she responds with conviction.

"My love for you allows me to forgive you everything…'til death do we part," he closes.

"'Til death do we part," she replies with tears rimming her eyes.

"By the powers vested in me I pronounce your Mr. Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III and Mrs. Olivia Carolyn Grant-husband and wife.

Fitz holds her face gently as his eyes drink in her beautiful face. For the first time her eyes are not vulnerable or scared. They are filled with hope and love. Olivia meets him half way as their mouths come together tenderly…relishing the new beginning-clean, clear and completely of their own making. She pulls back and giggles without shame.

Fitz snatches his eyes away from her, "Thank you for your quick response," he shakes the Chief Justice's hand.

"My pleasure-to be honest I think there may still be a little romantic left in me somewhere," he smiles. "We will file everything in the morning," he gestures to his clerks serving as witnesses who are failing miserably at hiding their tears of happiness.

* * *

Hours later the helicopter lands at their Vermont home. They should be exhausted but the high of making their deferred dream a reality has them on a high. Fitz pulls her by the hand to the front door and sweeps up and across the threshold. Olivia throws her head back and laughs in glee, "Someone is enjoying this way too much," she quips.

"Yes you are Mrs. Grant…what do you have to say for yourself?" he retorts playfully. A warm fire crackles from the massive fireplace.

"How much time do we have before the interview begins?" Liv asks with her arms wrapped around his neck.

"Not long…which means I cannot have my way with you-yet," his eyes overflow with desire.

"Fitz," she warns, "Put me down so I can call Abby and deliver a Press Secretary's worst nightmare," she instructs.

"Fine," he places her on the ground. You want wine…wait-you can't have wine," a huge grin lights up his face. He takes a seat on the kitchen stool.

She groans retrieving her phone from her purse by the door with their bags brought in by the SSA. "Abby…yes…very late…hateful…got it. You ready…Fitz and I got married tonight in the Rose Garden. The Chief Justice of the Supreme Court would be dumb enough to do it. We are establishing a Chinese Wall so from this day forward…no comment or we do not comment on their private life," she commands. Her voice softens, "Yes…thrilled. I need to go…yes Trick…bye," she laughs before hanging up.

Olivia stands between his outstretched legs running her hand through his curls, "This feels better than I ever imagined," she whispers.

"What feels better?" he challenges.

She places his hand flat against her belly, "Our love." Their loving gaze is broken by the SSA, "Sir, I have Jyoti Singh from 'The Vermont Cynic'," he announces.

Fitz never looks away from Olivia, "Show her in please."

* * *

The young college reporter dressed in jeans, college t-shirt and cropped blazer with an overflowing work tote is trying to process the whirlwind that has become her night. She received a call asking if she wanted an exclusive interview with a VIP. Now she is standing in the middle of palatial ranch estate questioning her sanity. _Is that_ _The President of the United State and Olivia Pope? Is this their home-impossible?_ "Am I being punked or hazed," she blurts, "I am not down for some jihadist sting bullshit or some right wing assault on my First Amendment rights," her verbal diarrhea continues.

Fitz laughs to tears and Olivia slaps his arm-chiding him with her eyes. She approaches the young lady extending her hand in greeting. "Ms. Singh…I assure you this is a legitimate exclusive. Why don't we sit so we can review the parameters of the non-disclosure agreement you signed," Liv gestures toward the chair in the great room.

Jyoti lowers herself into the chair watching the most powerful couple in the world take seats next to each other on the warm, cozy couch across from her. Like everyone else who has ever been in their presence she notices the abundant electric chemistry but here, in this place, there is something more. _What is the extra?...Intimacy…comfort…something is different-new; she observes._ Her reporter skills go to work and her nerves and sense of shock fade away. "You are getting ready…something big-important, but not part of D.C.," she speculates. "This is about you as people…is someone sick…did something change?" she probes.

Olivia looks to Fitz. _I win._ He raises his brows in response. _She is good._ He turns to the young reporter, "You ready to get started?" he chooses to respond.

"Absolutely," she pulls equipment from her bag. _I am closer to a Pulitzer than ever before._

* * *

Fitz and Olivia are kissing and writhing sprawled across their massive four poster bed, clothes scattered in the hallway and on floor. She sits up straddling his waist. Her breasts spill out of her bra barely still on her body, "I am honest to goodness nervous," she admits bashfully. Her lips are swollen from his ferocious kisses.

Her candor melts his heart. Fitz sits up and removes her bra by the back caressing her breasts once the garment hits the floor. "My beautiful bride…you do not need to be nervous. You are the only one meant to love me and I am the only one built to love you. Tonight in our marriage bed we will make love for the first time for the rest of our lives." He pulls her into a kiss by the back of her neck and rolls on top of her. His hand strokes her swollen slit still thick and creamy from his Super Power assault. He feels her soft hand stroke his engorged shaft and guide him into her with one slow thrust.

They gasp together, "Oh…yes." Olivia keeps her eyes open and he never looks away. They roll against each other grasping and clutching every piece of exposed skin. The love making is feverish, relentless and without end. Their sweat mingles together and they wipe away each other tears. "We made it," he whispers.

"I love you so desperately," her voice breaks.

"Together," he coaches. The pace and intensity of their joined bodies increases. She cries out and he roars when their simultaneous climaxes roll down like thunder and lightning. "It is a whole new world," he offers.

"It is everything," she replies breathlessly.


	6. Chapter 6

**Don't Sell the House…Yet**

 **Canon compliant-ish until departure**

Fitz stands at the open sliding glass door. The crisp Vermont air flicks against his bare chest. Olivia walks toward the chopper taking his whole heart; leaving him enough hope to hold on longer than his head knew was wise.

Olivia struts purposefully her heels sinking slightly into the grass kissed with fresh morning dew. Her heart races with all the truth she didn't tell. _I just need to compartmentalize._ Her feet stop moving. _We want the same thing…why run now?_ Liv turns back toward the house; her eyes and mind searching for a real reason. Her feet move forward at an urgent pace afraid she will lose the courage.

Fitz blinks and his heart beats erratically. _Let this be real._ Before he can prepare she is in his arms clutching him for dear life. Her purse clatters to the floor-contents spill haphazardly. He holds her close and manages to slide the door closed and carry her back to their impromptu love nest. He lowers them onto the piano bench. "You're back," he states. She simply nods into his neck.

Olivia lifts her head and takes his face into her hands. Her eyes are open and filled with love that belongs to him exclusively. "I am not fine. I have not been fine. I cannot be fine without you. We have to make it stop. We can stop him. The dream is no longer enough. Vermont is real," her chest heaves with each declaration.

Fitz eyes awash with tears of hope, love and relief study her. _We are here. We made it._ His ears ring because every prayer to a God who he knows has forsaken him is being answered in this moment. "We have to be united, intractable, unshakeable, trusting each other above all other. We need to neutralize forces within and outside the campaign-first. We track Rowan…plan quietly…move with stealth," he plots out loud.

* * *

 **Hours later**

Olivia kicks off her shoes and strips out of her Pope Armor until she is his Livvie. She searches the floor of discarded clothing retrieving his sweater and slipping it over her head. He returns with a notepad under his arm and a tray of random food items from the kitchen. Before she utters a word, "You can live without popcorn for one day."

Olivia crawls over to gather the scattered items from her purse. He slaps her on the ass and she laughs. _I barely recognize the sound of my own laughter._ She returns with a pen and her phone. "First up…Cyrus. He is a threat because his power is under siege. He cannot exist unless you are isolated and he can manipulate me to his ends. Second…Mellie. She is her own worst enemy on a good day. Faced with divorce…lacking political capital-she will implode and take everything and everyone down. Andrew cannot be trusted…but we may be able to use his ambition as leverage. Finally, we have to protect the kids," she sets the list of things to accomplish.

 _God I love her._ He nods in agreement. "You have to let me handle Jake. He is my fault," she interrupts by confesses.

"I gave him the intelligence for you to rescue the hostages. He gave me the concussion when I found the monitors and tried to get away. I have been punishing myself with him. I ruined you and I no longer believe I deserve to be more than a dirty, used tramp," the tears fall as the horrible lie in her head slips out.

Fitz gathers her into his lap and forces her to face him, "Olivia Carolyn soon to be Grant…you are the love of my life. There is no one…no one more important…you are my something special. I will spend every day and my last breathe making sure you trust our love. Do you understand?"

She nods quickly, "I want to believe."

"Well we better get started," his playful grin shifts the energy in the room. They work diligently; anticipating every contingency. By late morning they re-dress professionally from the waist up and move into the downstairs office. He uncovers some furniture and they take a few photos that resemble a strategy session. "Ready," he asks. She rolls her eyes and gives him less than enthusiastic thumbs up at his request. Fitz sends a tweet: The Boss has me working hard for the American People.

"5, 4, 3, 2, 1,"…the phone rings, "Yes Abby…put Huck on Jake. Be prepared for all cylinders. I need eyes on Mellie and Nichols." She disconnects. "Okay Mister…I need a proper house tour," she strips out of her Pope attire and slips back into the warmth and comfort of his sweater.

Fitz leads her by the hand up the stair. He opens doors gesturing and reminding her of all their hopes and dreams. "Finally…the moment you have been waiting for-our room. I did not forget a single detail," she states with confidence.

She walks in and the gravity of their dream made real nearly knocks her off her feet. The room is pristine. _He had to clean it himself._ Every random thought or shared desire was manifest in this room from the style, décor, to bed placement. _This home was built on love._ "I disagree," she counters.

"No way," he shakes his head. "I even got the thread count right," he defends himself.

Olivia looks up at him with seductive eyes, "Us making love in our bed is a big, overlooked detail." A wide grin takes over his face as he stalks toward her, "Wait," she holds her hand up to stop him. She posts one of the pictures with the caption; Making great policy for the middle class. See you at the White House tomorrow. She tosses the phone aside and pulls the sweater off before sliding onto the four poster bed. "I insist we work on this detail until our ride arrives," she purrs.

"By all means," he strips off his t-shirt and starts on his pants. "I serve to pleasure the future First Lady."

* * *

 **Next day**

Fitz and Olivia exit Marine One with bright smiles and a bounce to each step. They wave to the pool of reporters shouting questions. Fitz notices Mellie and Cyrus standing sentry waiting for the chance to burst his bubble with Liv; halt their momentum and ruin their plan. Sensing his hesitation Olivia speaks through her real smile, "I am all in…let's win over the press…change the news cycle," she directs.

They pivot from their initial direction and starting fielding questions separately but totally in sync with one another.

"Olivia…why the last minute strategy session away from both the campaign trail and the Oval Office?" the first reporter shouts.

"The American People deserve our best. New information and legislative opportunities gave us a small window to get a bipartisan victory for the middle class. President Grant insisted we seize the chance," she responds.

"President Grant…your revised agenda for today includes meetings with Democrats. What does that mean?" the second reporter shouts.

"The last time I checked the Democrats were a key part of the Legislature and critical to a governing coalition. If all goes well we should have news by the close of business," he entices.

Olivia checks her watch, "I am sorry we have to go. I am responsible for him these days," she charms effortlessly. _They will take the bait…work the Hill and keep the Press Room focused away from campaign process stories._

They move away from the Press Pool and into the White House. Cyrus and Mellie prepare to attack. As planned Fitz and Olivia turn and wave; speaking under their breath to their counterparts, "First Lady wave Mellie…Don't give away the game Cyrus," they chide in sync.

* * *

The White House halls are bustling and the rage from their unwanted companions is brewing. Abby and Lauren greet them at the door of the Oval; papers are exchanged; jackets are retrieved and the phone message call sheet is delivered. "Abby join us…Lauren escort Representative Shaw in when he arrives and hold all other traffic," he commands.

Before Mellie or Cyrus can summon an utterance the door to the Oval closes and they are on the outside with no feasible way in-the new and improved team is solid and complete. A silent and bloodless coup that appeared effortless.

* * *

 **Late Breaking News…Grant ignites bipartisan fever on Capitol Hill partnering with Democrats and moderate Republicans on Education and targeted Gun Reform.**

The news coverage plays on multiple monitors in the White House campaign war room.

"We won the news cycle at the top of the week. There is no room for alternate agendas. Further, the early polling makes anything less than loyalty to the President lethal," Olivia sets the tone standing at the front of the room.

Fitz adds to the pitch, "This is your shot…Andrew, we can move you off the ticket in a favorable light and you can continue to screw the ornamental First Lady. Mellie we will divorce immediately but hold the announcement until after inauguration," he explains.

"Are you insane…you will tank your campaign with that kind of change and I am never going to go quietly," she shrieks.

"You are right…it would be better for the campaign and for me to do a sit down with the children and admit I need to be a better father; since my ex-wife spends her time on her knees servicing the former vice-presidential nominee. The sympathy vote alone would eliminate my need to campaign for at least six months," he threatens.

"Do not forget you are both implicated in the prescription drug scandal. The public is sympathetic Mellie; however, years of campaign footage, photo ops and B-roll evidence of your close relationship with Big Jerry casts serious doubt on sexual assault that you never informed your husband about," Olivia forces the verbal shank deeper.

"So…what will it be? Do you two need the room?" Fitz asks facetiously.

* * *

 **Two weeks later**

 **Press Release…The First Family consulted their Spiritual Advisor and a Family Counselor. The pressure of the campaign and the needs and best interest of the children require significant change. Effective immediately the First Lady and the children are leaving to live a private life away from the pressures and expectation of the current political environment. Despite the President's protest the family collectively asked him to remain in office and continue his quest to serve the American People. The family asks that you respect their decision and allow them privacy during this important transition.**

* * *

 **Three weeks later**

 **Rose Garden**

"First, I would like to thank President Grant for the opportunity to serve; however, our ideological differences will not allow me to champion the campaign platform moving forward. In fact at the end of my tenure as the current Governor of California I will evaluate if I should continue to serve as a public servant," Nichols shakes Fitz hand, "Best of luck Mr. President. You still have my vote," he moves to the right.

Fitz plants both hands on either side of the podium, "I have sacrificed on behalf of this country as a Navy Officer, Governor of California, and now as President. Recently I made some hard choices for my family to make sure they are healthy and strong. Now I must do the same for the United States of America. I am thrilled to announce Josie Marcus as my new running mate. We can only solve this nation's problems together so I am going to lead by example. "Congresswoman Marcus," he invites her to the podium and moves to the left.

"Needless to say…I can't believe any of this is happening. I started out just trying to do some good at home. I am still doing that but as the President continues to remind me the population size increased-just a little. This campaign will be new and exciting but more importantly this bipartisan ticket is the right thing to do. Join us on this wild and important ride. Mr. President, thank you again for this opportunity to serve."

* * *

Olivia leaves the bathroom in the residence and curls up in Fitz's lap. He can feel the tension rolling off her small frame. "We have eyes on Rowan and we will have Maya shackled again soon," he comforts.

"How are you still here? My mother is a terrorist currently hunting you and my father is Command. My very DNA is toxic," she spits in disgust.

"Look at me Liv…Livvie," she turns her face to him, "Their choices are toxic and they are accountable. You are the remarkable woman that became the most powerful force a white hat has ever known; not to mention the love of my life. We are almost there-stay with me," he implores.

She exhales and snuggles deeper into his chest, "I think I can spin our Inauguration attendance as convenience as long as you dance most of the night with campaign staff," she suggests.

"I will cooperate if I get a White House slumber party and State of the Union prep in Vermont," he negotiates.

"Deal," she yawns.

"Go get some rest…saving the Republic is hard work," he instructs.

* * *

 **Hours later**

They are startled out of their sleep by Secret Service Agents flooding the room. "Sir, there is a threat…we are moving you to the Bunker," Tom announces.

Fitz tosses Olivia her sweater to cover the matching camisole to her satin pajama pants. He retreats to the closet pulling on blue sweat pants, a Navy sweatshirt and stuffing his feet into a pair of cross trainers. He grabs a pair of flats for her. They move toward the motorcade surrounding by walls of agents. He clutches her small hand in his and fires commands and questions at his team, "I need to speak to the First Family? Where is the Cabinet? Have you secured nominee Marcus?"

"Sir, they are not the target…their safety has not been compromised," he clarifies.

 _Rowan or Maya…Olivia is not safe._ Fitz stops and yanks Olivia into his arms. She instinctively wraps her legs around his waist and holds on tight. He picks up his pace until the entire entourage is jogging to the motorcade and racing toward the Bunker.

* * *

Olivia paces in circles against the far wall and Fitz stands in the opposite corner with his fingers laced together on top of his head. The sound of the door releasing alerts them to Tom's presence. He places a vile and syringe on the table. "I was ordered by Command to eliminate the President. Refusal to carry out this order will end my life. I considered an alternative-the First Son," he does not finish his sentence because Fitz presses him against the wall by the throat.

"Why me or my child…the threat is Maya," he questions in rage.

Olivia voice calls out behind him, "Old Testament justice…any eye for an eye. You took his child against his wishes and direct threat. I chose you despite his schemes, order and obstacles. He cannot be defied…no matter the cost," she explains.

Fitz releases the agent slowly, "Why come forward," his eyes never leave Tom, "Why risk your life…why should I trust that this is not a tactic to make us vulnerable?"

"Redemption…I attempted this before…I altered archived footage…edited audio…applied counterintelligence tactics. I can't take Command alone but now there is a chance. You two are giving us a chance," he admits.

"How many others like you?" Olivia questions.

"Hard to say…We have our own frequency. Jake's duplicity and visible status at the White House and OPA complicates matters. His allegiance to Command…his role as favored son; his obsession with President Grant as his nemesis; leaves a lot of agents in the shadows," he informs.

"Replace all SSA with Marines…secure yourself in the bowels of the CIA and wait for further instruction," Fitz orders.

Agent Stanton departs. Fitz collapses from the waist down onto the industrial couch and Olivia crouches against the opposite wall. The silence is stifling; time passes at an agonizing pace. She rises slowly, "Start with an Oval Office Address-primetime…acknowledging the terrorist threat. You will personify resolve and defiance in the face of danger…declare you will campaign and keep America safe," she begins pacing back and forth.

Fitz joins her plan, "The American People will rally around the Commander-in-Chief…Situation Room photo ops…Marines in Dress Blues. We highlight Tom as a patriot; we vow capture and justice for those responsible. We become a virtual nation at war."

They turn to each other and she speak first, "One or both will be forced underground because the only other option is to recklessly bring the fight directly to the White House," she calculates.

"There is the added bonus of any B613 agent that wants out hunting them down…get Huck here," he directs.

Olivia searches herself. This is it…the clean way forward. Not capture yet; not full containment but they are neutralized and their looming destruction is out in the open. Her feet are moving and she is in his arms, "We are doing it…we are making Vermont real," she speaks against his chest.

"See what a little hope will do," he smiles big.


	7. Chapter 7

**Back to the Light**

 **Canon compliant until post 7 x 05**

Olivia nodded toward Huck. He escorts President Rashaad and his niece to the waiting private plane under the cover of darkness. "Let us know when it is done," she orders.

She knocks on a new but familiar door kicking off her shoes once she crosses the threshold and placing her purse on the coffee table. "They have been in the air for a couple of hours. Did you make a stop?" Fitz enters handing her a glass of wine with one hand while he nurses his tumbler of scotch.

"Mellie signed off on closing B613 and I bird-dogged the paperwork so it was filed correctly. Cyrus is handling closing the office but we still need to decide how best to contain Jake permanently," she accepts her glass watching him take a seat across from her. She fixes her eyes on the wall just above his head. _I am ashamed, vulnerable and scared._

He nods, "This is good…my knowledge and participation in Operation Remington is doing some good."

"I still do not have an answer for Dad or my mother," she stops when the first sting of tears hits the corner of her eyes. _I am dirty and disgusting. I was born in a den of filth._

"Livvie…Liv…Olivia," he shouts. _I am losing her. She is not completely back._ Her head snaps to him, "One day at a time. We are headed in the right direction," he looks around and his heart drops. "You are not returning with me."

A small smile forms, "I am…but nothing connected to the current version of Olivia Pope has earned the privilege of Vermont."

"Good to know…there may be some things in the closet. Vermont things…jeans, sweaters, boots, athletic wear," his eyes roam her body, "Lots of panties…lacy…soft against the tongue," he licks his lips.

She laughs full and genuine, "Why are you like this?"

"One of life's great mysteries," he flirts throwing back the rest of his scotch. He extends his hand to her and stands. She stares at her hand. _What does he expect? I have nothing worthy of him._ "Olivia…you are going to shower-put on your favorite shirt and get some sleep for the first time in 100 days. I need you in my arms," he explains.

Liv stands grasping his hand as he leads her out of the room. Her body trembles. Everything she compartmentalized and bottled up is threatening to explode and splatter against the walls. _Hold tight…almost there…_

Fitz leaves her to turn on the shower. When he returns she is shaking standing in the middle of a pile of her clothes. He cradles her against his broad chest walking to be the warming bathroom. He strips quickly and pulls her inside the glass shower before she breaks. "You will be back…you are coming back. I see you Olivia…my Livvie is in there…hang on," she interrupts.

"You were right…I am whole with you…we are better together," she sobs.

 **AN: This has been in my head all day. I finally just wrote it because it would not let me go.**


	8. Chapter 8

**This Time Will be Different**

 **AN: Canon re-imagined**

Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III delivered his first State of the Union address with confidence and finesse. The adrenaline of the applause and the hope of making the lives of every day Americans better fueled his purposeful strides down the corridors of the West Wing. The anticipation of her reaction caused his heart to flutter. _Her opinion is the only one that matters._

He enters the Oval Office moving behind the Resolute Desk to take a seat. His Eisenhower flag pin catches his eye. _How did this arrive on my desk?_ He notices the letter beneath skimming the words but comprehension escapes him…resignation…Olivia's signature. _This is not happening…_ "Larson, Rambeau…we are on the move," he orders from his seat.

* * *

Olivia sits with her back against the right arm of her couch clutching a bottle of Shiraz to her chest. She takes another large swig from the bottle. _I can do this…I will not buckle…I can resist the President of the United States…_ A knock at her door stops her internal pep talk. She freezes staring at the door. She knows what is on the other side of the door…a freight train named Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III. She dares not to move, blink or breathe. She listens to the key unlock the door and watches in slow motion as his full, hard body fills the door frame and crosses the threshold, "Hi," he greets.

"Hi," she croaks.

He holds up her resignation letter, "Explain."

She shakes her head looking down, "I did," her quiet voice responds.

He nods, "True…Olivia Pope resigned but I am here for my Livvie and what we share deserves better than this."

"Did you get your pin?" she deflects.

"Yeah," he utters in confusion. "I did not realize I lost it. Where did you find it?" he questions.

Liv takes a deep breath and meets his eyes for the first time, "I didn't…your lawfully, wedded wife returned the pin to me and gave me permission to serve our country by screwing her husband," her gut churns. She raises the bottle to her lips and gulps generously.

Fitz collapses in on himself lowering his body into the closest chair. "This is why you resigned…I am so sorry…she had no right," she cuts him off.

"You are wrong…we are wrong…she has every right. You are her husband. I am the help and I forgot that but I remember now. You can be a better man…commit to your marriage," she nods trying to convince herself the words she speaks resemble their truth.

He raises his voice, "Stop…Olivia Carolyn Pope-stop. We belong to each other…we are in this together. I will not allow you to do this to us but more importantly to yourself. You deserve everything plus more. You are the love of my life. You are the most important person in my life. I was a coward before but I will never be one again. The only thing that can stop what is going to happen next is if…and only if you have stopped loving me…if you no longer want me. Look me in the eye and convince me that your love for me is dead," he challenges.

She stares with wide, vulnerable eyes desperately willing her mouth to form the words but her heart, body and soul refuse such blasphemy. "I…I am not this person…nothing I knew before exists anymore; there is only you and our love and I do not know how to," she stammers.

He stands and moves toward her. She draws her legs up to her chest bracing for not just the heat of his close physical proximity but the full force of his love. She has no defense…she shatters every time. He uses both hands to cup her face turning it up to him. He kisses her forehead tenderly. The next place for his hopeful kiss is her full mouth. Finally he speaks against her lips, "Wait for me Livvie…we are too close to our forever," he whispers before leaving her apartment. He stops with his hand on the door knob, "The President of the United States does not accept your resignation. I expect my Communications Director at the podium tomorrow morning," he commands before disappearing into the hall.

* * *

Mellie rolls over in bed and feels the cold spot where her husband should be sound asleep. She is no longer surprised. They have not shared a bed in more than a decade but the new reason why added a blistering bitterness to the toxic brew of the feelings surrounding her marriage and the man she was bound to for the foreseeable future. _Why now and why her?_ Before she can examine the question she is startled by the sound of a lamp switch and the previous unnoticed presence of the man at the center of her thoughts. "Jesus…you scared me," she responds scooting up and moving back against the headboard.

Fitz sits on the couch across the room. The sleeves of his shirt are folded back and his forearms rest against his thighs. He balances a tumbler of scotch between his strong hands, "Why do you care?" he asks.

"I am too tired to decipher your special brand of Morse code. Please get to the point? I have a speech tomorrow and I need to be at my First Lady best," she retorts.

He takes a sip, "I am racking my brain trying to come up with an explanation. Why do you care what I do with my heart? You have not been interested for the better part of a decade…if ever. So I have to wonder…why now?" he challenges.

She puts the clues together. A malicious smile makes a path across her face, "I assume you have your pin back. How were the Archives by the way? We should plan a visit. The optics of you and your lawful wife visiting the Constitution is political gold. You and your whore…not so much," she taunts.

Fitz jaw tightens. "I am not taking the bait…answer my question. Why are you pretending to care? We both know I am vehicle for your ambition. Why allow yourself the distraction of my heart?" he persists.

"I couldn't give a damn about your heart. I sacrificed too much to allow anything to interfere with what I deserve…and I deserve the Oval. I need two successful terms of the Grant Administration and you and her fucking convinced you found magical, change your life love is a threat to what I have earned," she spits.

He knocks back his drink and places the glass on the side table. "Okay, let's deal," he sits back and crosses his legs. She stares at him trying to determine his angle. He speaks, "No angle or agenda. You want a political path forward and I want to move forward. Let's figure this out."

Mellie's brow furrows, "What's to figure out. We continue traditionally for the first term. The second term I accept a prominent political role and launch my campaign with the entire Republican establishment firmly in my corner."

"Not happening," he snaps.

"Excuse me. There is no other option for you Honey. I am in the driver's seat. Let me help you understand. If I come forward as the devastated First Lady whose husband is screwing the staff you lose and I launch my candidacy as the wronged wife and the country rallies to my defense with their votes. Also let us be honest…the GOP will not be happy about the hue of your whore and how better to respond than a vote for an honest to goodness, blue-blood, Southern belle," she replies with venom dripping from the corners of her mouth.

 _Nothing like her ugly, vile nature to keep me focused._ He chuckles, "You are delusional. I understand why you believe you stand a chance of getting the outcome you want. I have never been this man before. Of course you doubt how willing and able I am to blow up everything to live a life with her," he challenges.

Mellie's back bristles, "You do not have what it takes to blow up anything but her phone; but go for it. Your feeble attempts should at least be entertaining."

"Great…make sure you watch tomorrow morning Press Briefing. And Mellie…you would be wise to remember that this war started long before Liv came into our lives. If you want to be spared the worst of my wrath you will leave her out of our battles," he stands and exits the room.

She stares at the empty space he just occupied. _What is he going to do? Are they working together? Can I handle them united?_

* * *

Olivia stands behind the podium the picture of perfection. Her crisp camel colored suit jacket buttoned to the neck and her hair styled in a tight bun. Her bangs wept neatly to the side. Only she was aware of the extra concealer necessary to hide the damage of another sleepless night. She closes her portfolio, "Once again, thank you for your flexibility this morning. The President's schedule changed so everything is one hour earlier. We have time for one last question," she looks down at her call sheet to determine who is next. The tingling of her skin and the rush of butterflies in her chest alert her to his close proximity before the reporters rise out of respect. The POTUS is in the Press Briefing Room.

Fitz ascends the podium sliding his hand along the small of her back. To the casual observer is appears professionally familiar. He knows the touch is selfish but he can't not touch her…the constant need to remind her in some small way that they are real and he is not going away. "Please wait for me," he whispers in her ear. The statement is both a command and a plea. She nods quickly and moves to the most distant corner. She never looks at him directly because her heart is too fragile.

He grips the sides of the podium and instructs the journalist to take their seats. He clears his throat, "I asked for Ms. Pope's forgiveness for interrupting her Briefing. We all know she runs a tight ship and none of us want to end up on her list," he charms the room and earns a few laughs. "I am here today not as the President of the United States but as Fitzgerald Grant. After careful consideration and a tremendous amount of soul searching," he pauses to allow the anticipation to settle, "Mellie and I have decided to go our separate ways." The gasps, shock and side bar chatter begin to fill the room. He lifts his hands from the podium waving them up and down to silence the crowd. "This divorce is amicable. I can no longer in good faith ask her to put her career on hold. As most of you are aware she was a partner in a law firm when I began running for office. She placed her ambitions on the back burner to support me. I am returning the favor. We will continue to be partners for our children but like any other career woman she is entitled to pursue goals without the burden of my career. This impromptu press conference is the only time I will discuss the matter unless some unforeseen circumstance require me to respond. I will take questions," he welcomes the onslaught.

" _Mr. President, is she running for office, returning to private practice or starting a new venture?"_

He smiles, "I think that question belongs to her. Next," he points toward the back of the room.

Physically Olivia stands in the corner of the Briefing Room but her mind left the building right after the words 'separate ways' fell from his lips. _What in the high holy hell?_ He is making them real. She no longer has an excuse or an easy out. Yes, he is still leader of the free world but he will no longer be married. He is forging a path for them to exist in the open. He is making himself available.

* * *

Cyrus burst into the residence, "What have you done? How you can be this thick and short sighted? After all these years you still do not understand the concept of strategic thinking?" he bellows.

Mellie's head snaps up. She spent the morning on the couch in her robe reviewing her remarks while waiting for the hair and make-up team to arrive and the Press Briefing to start. "What now? I thought you had baby-sitting duty during the day?" she chuckles.

He marches over grabbing the remote and turns the television to a closed circuit feed of the Briefing Room. Five minutes pass before full comprehension takes root. Her husband stands at the podium and effectively divorces her and opens the door for her political debut. _Son-of-a-bitch!_ "I…we never…I did not agree," she stammers.

Cyrus spins and looks at her distorted face and red cheeks. Fitz went rogue and no one knew. _I am getting on the winning side of this war._ "I do not know what you did or when you did it and I will not lie and say it was nice knowing you but I am a winner so Team Fitz for me," he leaves as quickly as he came.

Before she begins to formulate a rebuttal the White House valets enter the residence with boxes and packing materials. "What are you doing?" she shouts.

"Ms. Vaughn," the team lead hands her a pre-printed inventory list. "The President instructed the staff to prioritize your re-location to Blair House. We guarantee to complete everything by close of business today."

Mellie is too stunned to react to the use of her maiden surname. "Blair House!" she exclaims.

"Yes, our orders were clear…complete your move today for your 6-week stay while you put your affairs in order," he states matter-of-factly.

* * *

Olivia sits behind her desk staring at the wall. "Tell me you knew? Please give an old man back his sanity. Tell me you helped him plan this because I am one more surprise away from a stroke," Cyrus enters her office in full raving mode.

She shakes her head back and forth, "Nope…this death defying high wire act is the brain child of our Commander-in-Chief," she starts to laugh hysterically. "Who does that? Walks into the Briefing Room…casually announces the first divorce by a President while in office…takes questions and goes back to work," she slaps her hand against her forehead. _He is so many things._

"A man who wants options…a man who wants to live a real life…the life he always wanted with the woman he loves," Fitz responds startling the two occupants in the room. Cyrus pivots and Olivia fixes her adoring brown eyes on his determined blue eyes and adorable smile.

Cyrus head pivots back and forth and the veil falls from his eyes. How did he miss the obvious? "Holy mother of God," he mutters.

She rises from her chair and steps into fixer-mode, "We carry on with business as usual. Clear your calendars for this evening we have to re-structure the legislative agenda by moving Equal Pay to the forefront. The legislation is a political winner for the midterms plus it blocks Mellie from playing the victim or stalling divorce proceedings."

Fitz's smile widens, "Excellent idea…See you tonight," he winks. _We are in this together._

Cyrus groans, "You are going to be that couple…all extra heterosexual," he grimaces.

Liv blows Fitz a kiss, "I do not know what you mean," she replies facetiously before they both burst into laughter.


	9. Chapter 9

**Future Sunny Days**

 **Based on Season 6 Deleted Scene and a throw-away line from Rowan Season 7**

She needs to escape…to be anywhere but the White House. Her hand reaches for the door knob. "Stay," he calls.

"I have work…I need to get back," she explains.

"Work from here…there are only two weeks before I leave for Vermont. My time within this cell is almost over. Let's spend every minute together," he implores.

A boulder drops to the bottom of her gut, "You don't want me to come," the recognition of all the damage she has done…all the ways she has hurt him…every time she ran scared whether alone or with the abomination of a corrosive lie named Jake or being used as her father's most powerful chess piece proves to be too much for even Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III's bottomless, unconditional love. She has required him to forgive too much.

"I want you happy…this," his eyes bounce around the room, "You deserve this…Mellie needs you and I want that for you," he steps into the warm space within her arms reach.

She cups his face and brings their foreheads together to stop her world from spinning off its axis. "Two weeks," she acknowledges. _Who loves like him? No one… in this world or the next._

* * *

 **Two weeks later**

Olivia stands in front of a television monitor transfixed by his towering presence as he departs the White House alone ever presidential in his crisp blue suit and matching cashmere overcoat. The presidency cost him his son; made him a murderer; an accomplice to her murder; a marriage, however fake it was; and a real chance to live the life he wanted with her. He waves and smiles still charming the rambunctious press gaggle. She smiles in spite of herself. _He still has something I can work with…something I cannot live without._ For once she does not question or over think-she moves. She makes her way out of the room bobbing and weaving through the bustling hallways and corridors of the West Wing; a playback of every encounter, confrontation, interaction and conversation with Mellie or Rowan plays on a loop in her head…

" _You whore…you fell down on the job…I am taking my husband back…You owe me…We all serve in different ways…Here is a list of acceptable men…I am making you respectable…We are the wives...You have to be twice as good…You cannot take Command...Family makes you weak...He is an ineffective boy."_

"Mr. President," Olivia calls across the South Lawn. He turns in surprise and confusion. Still moving on instinct picking up speed she launches herself into his loving arms. They kiss as if no one is watching with all the passion and tenderness they were denied or worse yet deliberately thwarted by too many outside forces using them as pawns for their individual, selfish agendas.

"The cameras," he reminds.

"I do not care," she returns her mouth to his confident and eager. When she comes up for air his eyes hold a look of love and wonder. "It has been an honor, Mr. President," she affirms.

"The honor has been mine," he replies holding her close for the last time.

"Did you mean it…you want me to be happy?"

"Of course…your happiness is all I have ever wanted since I placed Doux Bebe on your finger in Vermont. I put your happiness before my own when I let you go before the G-20 Summit…Even when I was foolish enough to take the political steps for Edison Davis' speakership so you two could build a life together."

"Good," she nods her head and takes his hand.

"Livvie, what is happening?" he questions knowing not to jump to conclusion or worse yet raise his hopes.

She guides him toward Marine One. The cameras flash wildly and reporters shout frantically…

" _Are you leaving together? Ms. Pope, are you resigning as Chief of Staff? President Grant, what did that kiss mean? Is Olitz real? Is Olitz back? What about the new administration? President Grant have you changed your plans? Are you staying in Washington, D.C.?_

Neither care to respond as they climb the steps of the helicopter. He takes off his coat and suit jacket tossing the heavy garments onto an open seat before settling in next to a window. He pulls her down next to him and she curls her body against him; resting her head on his shoulder. The chopper ascends making the White House and all of its symbols of power small and insignificant. "You were wrong," she states.

He glances down at her, "Could you be more specific. You are always right so I need the details," he offers.

"The White House…power without you could never make me happy. Mellie does need me but she does not deserve me-never has and never will. I have lived too long with guilt and obligation-but no more. Finally, I refuse to give Command what is left of my soul…they have cost me too much." He kisses her forehead and waits with his lips resting against her warm skin. "I refuse to buy the lie that love and family make me a weak person. I belong to you…I exist for you. Our love is devastating, excruciating, once in a lifetime but it is real and worthy of time and devotion."

He clears his throat because he resigned himself to never having all of her. "So, Vermont and then what?" he seeks clarification.

"Whatever we want…I am sure this time. No bubble or spotlight," she smiles up at him.

* * *

 **Weeks later in Vermont**

Fitz greets the long line of staff, "Thank you so much but your services are not needed," he explains. He dressed in snug, dark denim and a plaid button down shirt covered by a thick blue roll neck cashmere sweater. Olivia enters the room chuckling and shaking her head. _He is not playing with the kids…we are going to live the rest of our lives on our terms-optics, opinions, polls be damned._ The sound of her heels against the wood flooring draws his attention. His eyes travel from her natural curls, thick sage green sweater, and tight jeans tucked into suede boots, "You ready?"

She secures her earring, "Yep…grocery shopping. Although I still think you should let me drive or at least give you a lesson. You have not driven a car in twenty years?" she teases.

The agent clears his throat, "I am required behind the wheel, Sir" he explains.

Ten minutes later with the wind blowing his curls back Fitz smiles like a kid let loose on summer vacation. One hand on the steering wheel and the other squeezing Olivia's thigh as she giggles in the passenger seat. "When was the last time you did you own grocery shopping?"

"When was the last time you did your own?" he snaps back.

"Hey, I ordered for myself. I am pretty sure that counts," she quips. They descend into laughter at the absurdity of their brand of normal.

They roam the aisles of the modest sized grocery store while crowds gather to record the ultimate power couple. At the checkout counter Olivia laughs wildly and Fitz blushes trying to activate a debit/credit card. Her taunting voice rings out from behind him, "Are you sure the house is paid for?"

"Not helping," he calls over his shoulder.

* * *

 **Days later**

Olivia snuggles tight against his body safe and happy within the warm embrace of his muscled arm around her neck. So far they toured the orchards, stables and fenced corral with the morning sun, crisp air, rustling leaves and bird chorus as their only companions. She resumes listening to his running dialogue.

"I figured a trip to Kentucky to pick out some quarter horses or maybe thoroughbreds. Thoughts?" he questions.

She nods, "Sounds good," before a thought pops into her head. "Goats…I want baby goats," she proclaims in excitement. "We will not have to worry about the front acreage."

"You want to trade your gladiators for baby goats?" his bemused voice confirms.

"We can call them gladiators…maybe Teddy would enjoy them. He could name them or something," she trips over her words. _I hope I am not getting ahead of myself._

"I know he would love that…thank you for thinking of him," he shares.

"You do not have to thank me…I think about him a lot lately," she replies wistfully.

* * *

 **Later that evening**

Olivia brushes aside a large bowl of popcorn sitting on a stool in front of the breakfast counter, "This is the one…I actually smell roast chicken this time," she offers a thumbs up.

"I hope so…I do not know what that smell was during the last attempt," he replies bending down to retrieve dinner from the oven. To both of their delight he places a perfectly golden brown chicken with fresh carrots, red potatoes, onions and Brussels sprouts on the stove top.

"Wow…that is definitely better than popcorn," she compliments. His raises his brow in surprise watching her power through her second helping of vegetables alongside her equal portions of white and dark meat from the perfectly cooked bird.

* * *

 **Day 100**

Fitz leans against the door frame observing Olivia lost in her thoughts standing in the middle of an empty bedroom on the second floor. "Did you finally decide on your home office? I am more than willing to share," he interrupts her musing.

"What do you think about light grey walls…maybe soft yellow or green accents to capture the natural light," she replies.

He moves into the room running his hands across her shoulders and down her arms before pulling her body back against his chest in a tight embrace. He speaks with his lips pressed against the skin of her neck, "You have impeccable taste and money is not an issue…decorate as you see fit," he kisses her firmly.

"I appreciate the vote of confidence but I would think the father would like some say in the baby's nursery," she holds her breath and waits.

His mind stutters to a stops, "Huh…repeat your last statement." _I am not sure this is real._

Olivia turns toward him and places one arm over each of his shoulders, "I would like for us to decorate the nursery together," she clarifies.

"You are pregnant and made the choice to carry the child to term?"

"We are probably about twelve weeks and I would very much like for us to have this baby. Thoughts?" _I will no longer be callous with his heart._

He stammers and tears sting his eyes, "I have wanted nothing so desperately than to be the father of Olivia Pope's baby," he states with conviction.

"Fortunately, you are really good at your job because I am pretty sure this bundle of love was made in this house that you built for us to fill with lots of kids if I remember the selling points correctly," she smiles brightly.

He explodes with joy lifting her off the ground and spinning her through the air. He places her feet back down before ravishing her mouth with an eager and grateful kiss. "Doctor's visit…ultrasound…public announcement…press release…sit down interview…print interview…non-disclosure; however, you choose to handle this I am in," he rambles.

"Doctor's appointment here and we can determine next steps together," she holds his face between her small hands, "I want this for us," she confirms.

He lifts her up bridal style and rushes toward their bedroom, "Time to celebrate," he smiles with a twinkle in his eyes.

"By all means…let the celebration begin," she laughs in delight.


End file.
